


Those Who Come to Skyhold

by HinatasShadow



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dorian may or may not have been innocent, Fenris has anger issues, Hawke is forgetful, LITERALLY, M/M, Zevran will steal your lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9195176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HinatasShadow/pseuds/HinatasShadow
Summary: Hawke has arrived at the Inquisition and has realized that he has forgotten something very important back in Kirkwall. One night what he has forgotten appears in Skyhold and makes his night more entertaining.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> I know that this piece is written a bit oddly. I tried to make it so that it is Hawke recalling a past event, scattered attention and all.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy.

Ever since he had arrived at the decrepit fortress once and currently known as Skyhold, Garrett Hawke had had a feeling deep within his gut that he had forgotten something very important in his haste to leave Kirkwall. But what that important thing might be and how it might influence his general well being, he had no idea. Barkspawn was sleeping contentedly at the foot of his bed, and Varric was distracting the noisy Seeker last he knew, therefore everything was in place and no need for him to be on edge.

Considering some of the things that had happened in his past, Hawke considered his life to be rather peaceful for the moment, but still something was not quite . . . where it was supposed to be and it bothered him to no end.

Annoyed that sleep refused once again to be his mistress tonight, he gathered some clothing and his staff before he crept silently out of the room, careful not to wake his mabari.

Despite the late hour, people were still milling around the halls of Skyhold, many of which stop to whisper to their companions once Hawke has passed by. He ignores them, knowing that he will most likely not like what he hears, and he is too tired to argue without some decent ale in his system to back him up.

At one point Hawke even spotted Cole listening to a conversation. Better those poor souls than his.

When he emerged from the main hold, he saw people gathering and making a circle near the courtyard by the tavern, the sounds of angry, yet familiar yelling and cursing rising from within. Much of the yelling was punctuated with sparks of magic and the singing of a blade. 

Curious, Hawke approached the group, hoping for something to make his night more interesting, or at the very least, more entertaining. Maybe if he was lucky, it would turn out that someone finally got the annoying bald elf to snap and now some of his mysteries would be out in the open. Or Sera would steal the combatants’ trousers during the battle. Whichever came first.

Hawke carefully nudged his way through the crowd, making a beeline towards his friend the moment he spotted Varric not so subtly exchanging money some of the other spectators, including Warden Blackwall. “So did I miss all the fun, or do I get a chance to knock some heads together?”

The dwarf turned to his friend, a grin already in place and a hand gesturing towards the makeshift arena. “I don’t think you’ll want to get in on this one. Besides, you should probably worry more about one of them knocking your head around. Though this does explain why our lovely Captain Isabela was just here asking where to find a drink at this hour.”

It was only then that Hawke actually took a look at the combatants, a sense of dread and understanding filled him with what he saw.

On one side of the makeshift arena there was that rather pompous mage from Tevinter, more poof and words than Hawke wanted to deal with, but the man did have his uses, mainly helping to fill the pockets of everyone who trampled him at Wicked Grace. At that point the man had a firm grip on his staff, but even from here, Hawke could tell that his energy levels were wearing thin. 

And the other side of the arena the other combatant was also starting to grow tired, the great sword being swung in smaller arcs and his footwork was becoming sloppy. That combatant possessed an all too familiar mop of messy white hair and that unmistakable glow of trouble. If Hawke were a lesser man he might have fled at the pure hatred radiating from the smaller form and the giant deadly blade it wielded.

Instead, it was in that instant that Hawke remembered what he forgot, and now he is sure that that very angry elf is out for blood, most likely his.

He forgot Fenris.

Hawke started to slowly back away, hoping to make a clean getaway before Dorian’s use as a distraction ran out. However, a large hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up to see the resident qunari and some of his men take up positions near Varric. More money was exchanged and The Iron Bull directed Hawke back to the fight, gesturing at Fenris. “You know, word of you and your companions reached me long before the fall of Kirkwall. And in his case, he was already on my watch list from his reputation back in Tevinter.” 

There was a pause as Bull nudged Krem, who just finished dragging out a stool from the tavern. “I don’t know what you did to piss that elf off, and frankly I don’t care. But, if things don’t work out between you two, or you die, I could always use a guy like that in the Chargers. Right Krem?” Krem nodded in agreement and he took his place standing on the chair.

Hawke honestly did not know how to respond. It was not the first time someone had wanted Fenris, but normally there was more shouting and threatening involved. But thank the Maker he did not have to think about it too long before the other bane of his existence decided to make her presence known.

“I don’t know what you think you are doing, but you must cease immediately!” 

Hawke saw Varric twitch at her voice. He looked over his shoulder to see that the Seeker had arrived full of anger and she was dragging a rather reluctant Cullen behind her. As she approached, Bull broke away from the group and stood in her path. “This is one thing you won’t want to get involved with, Seeker.”

She tisked. “If there is fighting amongst the people here, then I believe that it is something I must get involved in. If this gets out of hand then someone will need to put a stop to it.”

“Seeker I don’t think you understand the situation. Just let them fight it out like men and then you can lecture them in the morning.” Iron Bull gestured at Cullen, indicating that he needed to step in.

Cullen, put a hand on her shoulder. “For once, you might want to listen to him, Cassandra. I’ve met that elf, and if you know anything about Hawke’s companions then I’m sure you recognize him. And I assure you that unless you want to feel the wrath of the Champion of Kirkwall for any harm done to him, then you should just let them tire each other out. Dorian can hold his own, you should know that by now.” He sensed her hesitancy. “Why don’t you and I have a cup of tea? And when this is all over, then you can interrogate them.”

The Commander pulled her away again, ignoring her protests and the song of the lyrium that is just beyond his reach. He spotted a certain blond elf readying to throw a jar into the arena. “Sera, put those bees back where you found them. It’s just Dorian and an elf showing off.”

He smiled faintly at the annoyed mumblings of “You never let me have any fun!” as he finished dragging Cassandra back indoors.

Hawke turned his attention back to the arena, or what was left of it. The people must have gotten bored and left once it was clear that neither the mage nor the elf was going to manage to kill or seriously injure the other. They both sat on the ground at this point, weapons still pointed at the other, curses and insults loosing heat as both panted for breath.

“You know, I don’t remember the last time there was a fight here that I wasn’t directly involved in.” Hawke spared a quick glance at the Inquisitor who had just taken a spot on the other side of Varric. Hawke noted the small smile on the elf as he stared at Dorian. Not that he was completely surprised, but elves and Tevinter mages rarely got on. Then again if Fenris could fall for a mage, anything could happen.

The Inquisitor cleared his throat. “But you know, Dorian is going to kick that guy’s ass.” His brow furrowed for a moment and his voice quieted. “I hope he doesn’t try to bed him after this.”

Hawke let out a bark. “I would hope not. There wouldn’t much of him would be left by the end of it. Besides, the ass of that lovely glowing mess of anger issues is mine.”

“Varric did mention that you had a lover, but if he’s this good with a sword, why didn’t you bring him when you came here?”

“That’s a bit . . . complicated.”

“Look, you can discuss you love lives later, you two might want to get a look at this.” Varric guided the two back to the combatants.

Hawke and the Inquisitor both turned back to see that both Dorian and Fenris had reached their limits. Their weapons discarded on the ground and the two of them silent as they continued to glare at one another. A blond figure headed towards them, a swagger in his step.

Hawke did a double take. “Zevran? Who let you in here?”

The blond turned around, a smirk on his face. “Ah Leliana and I had a talk over dinner. You know she smiled a lot more when we were with the Wardens, but you should still never try to cross her.” He leaned down and grabbed first Dorian and then Fenris by the collars of their clothes.

“You know, one of those is mine.” Hawke made a move towards Fenris.

Zevran smirked at him. “Of course. You can always feel free to join in.” He continued walking towards the keep, Hawke and the Inquisitor in pursuit of their respective lovers.


End file.
